A Rose By Any Other
by Daughter of Nature
Summary: Acton of Fenrigh is in for a surprise. Acton/Clary, written for the 2010 Peculiar Pairings Ficathon on Goldenlake.


Acton's gaze lingered on the card tables, the place where he'd first seen Mya. They were slowly emptying now, just as they had back then, a sign that the night was moving well towards morning. He could almost picture her there now, swaying slightly as she'd stood to go.

_Stay for another game_, he'd said as he'd walked up to her. _I'd like to learn how to play. _He didn't mean the words to come out as bossy as they sounded, but he didn't bother to correct himself. As a noble he was used to commoners doing what he wanted no matter how it was phrased. Not Mya though. He chuckled as he remembered. She'd just stood there, unimpressed, her arms crossed over her chest and her sharp brown eyes narrowed.

_It's late_, she'd said. _It's late and I've had both too much and not enough to drink. _Acton had hurriedly tried to fix things, and she'd just laughed. _Goldenlake ale? I'm not some fribbety mot that needs impressing, I'm a Dog. I'm happy enough with the cheap swill. _

He'd demanded to know whether she'd teach him the card game or not, and she'd just looked him up and down, a hint of a smile at the edge of her mouth, before suggesting that they took the game back to his rooms. He'd protested that he hadn't just approached her for sex and was starting to wonder if she was really a sneaky doxie in some sort of disguise, when she'd swallowed down a mouthful of the ale – he'd noted with satisfaction that she wasn't complaining about it _now_ – and told him that she wasn't cracknobbed enough to use a noble for a dozy, fribbety sheepling, and they wouldn't be playing for money. He was mostly sure that she was using street slang on purpose to throw him off balance, so he'd ignored it and asked what they would be playing for instead.

The image of Mya would be in his mind forever as she'd flicked her eyes up and down his body once more, then leaned across to him, giving him an uninterrupted view down her dress. Her face had been only inches from his when she'd murmured that one word.

_Clothing._

Acton had fallen for her in the weeks that followed. Not completely; his opinion on mushy love ballads didn't change, and he didn't think of throwing himself off a bridge when she left, but he'd fallen enough for her that he felt…regret. Not in the sense that it was his fault she went back (it wasn't), but in the sense that he wouldn't get to run his fingers through her long dark hair anymore, or look into those deep brown eyes. There wouldn't be any more mornings where he'd wake up with his hand on her smooth skin (and of course, one thing had usually led to another all over again), or moments where he'd laugh until his sides hurt at the slang or rowdy songs she was teaching him. Or, more usually, _she'd _laugh until _her _sides hurt at his attempts to copy her at it.

And somehow, he always found himself drifting back to this same tavern. Maybe it was because he liked to reminisce, or maybe it was because so much seemed to happen here.

It was here that he'd decided to follow her one day as she worked, just to see if the sight of her in her black uniform, bossing people around and taking down men twice her size, would be as appealing as he thought it would be (it was).

And it was here, months later, that he'd realised he was inexplicably intrigued by not just her as a Dog, but by Dog work itself, and decided to get involved.

And now here he was, sharing a drink with his Watch Sergeant (ex-Watch Sergeant now, he reminded himself) after the end of his last shift as Watch Commander. Not that going to Corus was his idea, it was Lionel's (and possibly the sanest idea the man had had in a while), and truthfully he'd become a little bored of Port Caynn.

Acton couldn't help but wonder if he'd see Mya again, but he dismissed it – he had no way of knowing if she was even still doing Dog work. Besides, she'd told him she worked Patten District, and he'd be in the Lower City. It'd be moonsong to think he might see her again.

Looking back, he shouldn't have been surprised that her face would be the first he saw when he walked into the Jane Street kennel. After all, it was just like Mya to appear again after – what, a decade? – and right when he wasn't expecting her. All that time, and he recognised her immediately. She still had the same build; muscled and slim but with curves filling out her uniform in all the right places. Acton hurriedly looked back at her face – it would be just his luck to find that one of the tough looking Dogs around him was her husband – and couldn't help but smile. Her dark hair was cut shorter now and there was a hint of a scar on her cheek, but her eyes had the same spark of life in them. He'd forgotten just how…_sharp_ she was, and a quiet snort of laughter escaped him as she rolled her eyes and gave the tall hillman beside her a light kick on the ankle, her mouth turning up just a little at one corner. She'd aged, of course, but she really hadn't changed a bit.

"Mya."

She didn't hear him at first, but the man beside her did.

"Did you just call her 'Mya'?" he asked, a grin growing on his face.

"…Yes," answered Acton, thoroughly confused, and Mya finally turned around.

"Gods, _Acton_?"

The man beside Mya looked far too full of glee for everything to be right. "Clary, you naughty, naughty, _wicked_ mot," he was saying. "Is this another one of your lovers from back when you were cr-"

She clapped her hand over his mouth. "From when I was in Port Caynn, yes," she muttered, "and Goddess help you, Mattes, learn a bit of discretion." She frowned and looked back at Acton. "What are you doing here?"

Acton had conveniently forgotten until now that she had a temper. He swallowed hard and hoped his news wouldn't cause it to flare up. "I'm the new Watch Commander for this kennel."

They both stared at him for several long moments, and then the man recovered before she could. "Oh, this is too good," he said. "It's even better than when you hobbled that other cove from Port Caynn, and _he _said that-"

Her elbow dug sharply into his side to silence him and she sighed and ran a hand through her hair as she looked up at Acton. "I suppose I should tell you that my name's not actually Mya."


End file.
